


What About Trust (You Know I Never Wanted To Hurt You)

by AoifeMoran



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, aka the au nobody asked for, because hermione and krum were meant to be, in which hsm exists in the harry potter universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AoifeMoran/pseuds/AoifeMoran
Summary: The events of Harry Potter take place about a decade later. It is the summer of 2008, the summer after her fourth year at Hogwarts, and Hermione Granger learns an important lesson from the least expected place: the Disney channel.





	What About Trust (You Know I Never Wanted To Hurt You)

**Author's Note:**

> because viktor/hermione should have been endgame. a fix-it.

“You don’t mind watching her for the evening, right love?”  


Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling indulgently. “Honestly, aunt Katherine, I already told you and mum at least four times that it’s no trouble. I mean, how difficult can watching a ten-year old for a few hours be? It’s not ari-- rocket science,” she corrected herself at the last moment, remembering that no one in her family aside from her parents knew about the magical world, let alone arithmancy.

Her aunt gave her an odd look, but clearly decided against saying whatever she’d been about to say, instead reciting a long list of instructions and restrictions for Hermione’s younger cousin that she didn’t really pay that much attention to. “And for god’s sake, don’t let her watch more than an hour of that Disney rubbish, it’ll rot her brain,” she concluded. “Come and say bye to mummy and daddy now, Cordelia,” and the girl perched in front of the TV reluctantly got up to do so.

The moment the door closed, Cordelia turned on Hermione with what could only be described as a feral look in her eyes. “There’s a Disney Channel Original movie marathon, and I’m going to watch them and you’re not going to tell mum,” the girl declared. Hermione blinked, stunned by the assertiveness of the outburst, and thought for a bizarre moment that her cousin had Pansy Parkinson’s sense of entitlement mixed with the sheer violent unpredictability of one of Hagrid’s skrewts.

Well, if her little cousin reminded her of a Slytherin, best treat her like one, she supposed. Hermione smiled slyly and asked, “And what’s in it for me?”

Cordelia thought fast. “I’ll leave you alone and not bother you?” Hermione shook her head, indicating that the offer wasn’t good enough. “I won’t tell aunt Gertrude you have a boyfriend?”

“How did you even--” Hermione began and then flushed, realizing her mistake. Cordelia had no way of knowing, they’d barely interacted all year. By reacting, she’d given herself away. Slytherin, she thought again, this time with grudging respect. “He lives in Bulgaria, mum won’t care.” To herself she added, and I’m writing a break up letter tonight, because it can’t work out. “Last chance to convince me.”

“Fine! Mum left money so we could get take away for dinner, and I’ll let you pick what we order!” Hermione nodded her agreement, they shook on it, and Cordelia headed towards the living room while Hermione sat down at the kitchen table, shrugged off her school bag and took out parchment, a quill and ink.

_ Dear Viktor _ , she wrote, and then stopped, putting her quill back in the inkwell to avoid making a mess of the parchment. How would she explain that while she cared for the person she had gotten to know during the tournament, she felt they lived such different lives that it would never work between them? Nevermind her anxieties about Voldemort’s return and what it would mean for her, a muggleborn Gryffindor, and for him, a pureblood Durmstrang student, with all the legacy that each entailed, let alone their families…  


She sighed, setting the parchment aside, and turned to her astronomy assignment (“pick a celestial object and explain its significance or lack thereof in astronomy and at least two related fields”) instead. Wizards still thought Pluto was a planet, despite it being nearly two years now since the International Astronomical Union had pronounced it a dwarf planet instead, and she just knew it was wrong and the reason why some arithmantic equations simply fell apart. She reached for a piece of scrap paper to work out some equations to demonstrate the equation with and without Pluto’s influence and inadvertently found herself writing on the abandoned letter to Viktor. Oh well, she’d simply have to start a new letter later. Two words wasn’t much of a letter in any case.  


Her sections on astronomy and arithmancy finished, she found herself looking for a third discipline that could be considered related. Potions? But that was only really ever concerned with the moon at best, and she still had to fill another twelve inches. Transfiguration wasn’t related, there weren’t any Dark creatures or spells that she knew of that related to Pluto, and then inspiration struck in the form of a memory, a conversation overheard between Lavender and Parvati as Lavender mentioned that someone’s chart had their moon conjunct Pluto, and that meant their mother would be overly involved in the relationship. Astrology! She had scoffed then, and would prove now that divination was a load of nonsense, starting from the fact that the muggles had only discovered Pluto in 1930 so how could it really have such a terrible negative impact on people’s natal charts as all that? Utter rubbish. She had read about astrology and natal charts, of course, trying to make sense of the matter, but never seen the point of relying on it. It was all guesswork and stereotypes, nothing like the solid numbers of arithmancy.  


Hermione wrote furiously, ink staining her hands, and only stopped when she realized someone was watching her. She raised her head and saw Cordelia. “Can I help you?”  


Belatedly she realized how odd she must look, and that she should probably explain, but Cordelia didn’t ask any questions. “You’re weird,” her cousin pronounced instead, nose wrinkled. “Is this like, for some sort of reenactment thing and that’s why you’re writing like that?” She didn’t wait for an answer and plowed on. “I’m hungry. Can you order something?”

“Is Indian okay?” Despite having been given the right to choose, she knew if she ordered something Cordelia didn’t like she’d never hear the end of it.  


“Could we get Chinese instead?” Hermione nodded and they set to the business of deciding what exactly to order, and then phoning the order in.

She finished her essay while she waited for the food, and then Cordelia convinced her to let them eat in front of the TV so she wouldn’t miss whatever it was she was watching, only that meant she ended up half-watching as well.  


“That’s Gabriella, she’s a swot like you and she’s new at the school,” Cordelia explained wisely between mouthfuls of fried rice. “The dreamy one is Troy, he’s a basketball star, he likes Gabriella instead of Sharpay who’s loads prettier.”  


Hermione tried not to choke. Replace basketball with quidditch, and that was basically her and Viktor. She found herself watching intently despite herself, as if all the answers to her relationship troubles could be found in a Disney film. The musical numbers were catchy, she conceded, and the plot was basically Romeo and Juliet, only with more America and less dying. When the credits started, she got up to head back to the kitchen table and the letter she still had to write.

“Are you going to come watch the sequel?” Cordelia called from the living room as she stared at the blank parchment. “I won’t tell anyone you fancy Zac Efron!”

Hermione snorted, but packed away her quills and parchment and returned to the sofa as the second film began. It was alright, she supposed, and then Gabriella was singing about going her own way and suddenly her heart hurt a little.  


Cordelia squinted at her. ”Are you crying?” The accusation sounded rather gleeful. “You are! And you’re supposed to be the mature responsible one!”

“If you don’t shut up right now,” Hermione threatened, holding up one of the throw pillows to indicate what exactly she’d do. Cordelia squeaked and shut up, and they watched the rest of the film, Troy and Gabriella’s inevitable reconciliation, Sharpay’s “evil” plans being foiled and the final dance number, in silence. If only stopping evil in the wizarding world were that easy, Hermione thought wistfully.  


They heard a car pull up into the drive, and Cordelia grabbed the remote and turned the channel to the National Geographic channel. It was just in time, too, as a key scraped in the lock and Hermione’s aunt called out, “We’re back!”

“Oh thank god,” Cordelia whinged, launching herself at her mother as if she’d had an evening of torture. “Hermione made us watch National Geographic all night, did you know there’s this tribe in Brazil that only met other people like ten years ago and they don’t let anyone enter their part of the forest and if you try they’ll shoot you with poison darts,” she babbled. Hermione was impressed at her sheer nerve, lying like that. Definitely a Slytherin, if she weren’t so extremely muggle.

“Well you certainly sound like you learned a lot,” her aunt replied, giving Hermione a pleased smile. “Did you have a good time, Hermione?” She nodded. “If you’ve got all your things, your uncle will drive you back home, I don’t want you walking this late at night.”

“I did, thanks.” On the drive home, she thought about the letter she was going to write, and how just maybe a silly Disney film really would change her life.

\--

_ Dear Viktor, _

_ I tried to write you a letter today, but couldn’t get the words to come out right. Silly of me, I know, since I’m usually quite good with writing and words and being clever, as you often remind me. _

_ The thing is, I was going to write to you that I think it would be for the better if we stopped writing to each other. I just couldn’t figure out how to explain all the thoughts that were in my head, all the reasons why I felt that way, and that’s why I couldn’t figure out how to write that letter. _

_ I’m scared, Viktor. That’s really the main problem, and I know I’m a Gryffindor and being a Gryffindor means doing what’s right even when you’re scared but for a long moment there I forgot because I was so scared, and what I was thinking was that maybe it would be easier to just… not do anything. To give up on this relationship, because being together would mean having to fight for it, having to fight prejudice and hatred and probably actual Death Eaters and You-Know-Who and putting ourselves and our families at risk even more than they already are, and I don’t want other people to be hurt because of me. _

_ Then I saw this film while I was watching my little cousin tonight so her parents could go out to get dinner together. The main characters were a smart girl who was new in town and a sports star from a family that everyone knew, and all I could think about was how similar to us they were. Basically, they got together and then things happened and the girl lost trust in her boyfriend and sang this whole song about having to go her own way, and I was crying because she was saying all the things I’d been thinking of saying and that’s when I realized that I can’t say them. _

_ Me being afraid of the way things are - how our families and schools could be used against us, the upcoming war, that we live in different countries and I’m scared that if we’re apart too long you’ll find someone else, the age difference and how you’re finished with school and I’m not, yet - isn’t a reason to give up. I have to trust you, and  _ us _ , and believe that if we want to and we work together we can make this relationship work.  
_

_ My mum always says the reason she and dad are so happy together is because they tell each other the truth, no matter what. So the truth is, Viktor, I’m scared. What happened at the Third Task was awful, and I’m certain things will only get worse before they get better. But pushing you away isn’t the answer, I understand that now. _

_ I know you have your family and your entire life in Bulgaria, and it’s selfish of me to think it, but I wish you could be here more often, to hold my hand like you did in the library at school and tell me that things will be alright. _

_ I miss you. _

_ Love, _ _   
_ _ Hermione _

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by two different tumblr posts (fanart by tumblr user bloodyhellharry of hermione sitting with a book on viktor's back as he does push ups with the text "could be troy and gabriella but you playing" and a post in which hermione rants about pluto not being a planet and revolutionizes divination) and also high school musical, obviously
> 
> the fanart in question: https://bloodyhellharry.tumblr.com/post/130335245730/ah-to-be-young-and-feel-loves-keen


End file.
